Roman nodded once, uncomfortable with the gratitude. It wasn’t why he did things. Results mattered more than recognition. “You’ll stay here until you’re recovered,” he said, shifting back to practical matters. “My men will arrange new housing for you, somewhere Kostas’s reach doesn’t extend. New documents if necessary, a fresh start.” — “It’s handled, Roman.” — “It’s handled,” he repeated firmly.
“Consider it payment for information. You worked at Kostas’s club; you know his operations, his habits, his weaknesses. That’s valuable intel.” Ellen understood what he was doing. Giving her a way to accept help without charity, preserving her dignity while ensuring her safety. She nodded slowly. “I’ll tell you everything I know.” — “Later. Rest. Heal.” Roman moved toward the door, then paused. “Ellen, what happened to you wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve it, and the people responsible won’t hurt anyone else.
Because of you. Because they made the wrong choice.” He left before she could respond, closing the door softly behind him. Victor was waiting in the hallway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “Kostas?” Victor asked. “Tomorrow night. I want full surveillance, full schedule. Every person he meets. When I visit him, I want him isolated. Understood?” Victor hesitated. “Boss, word about the cabin will spread.” — “Let it.”
Three days passed at the safe house like time suspended. Ellen grew stronger, color returning to her face, the tremors in her hands gradually fading. The doctors reduced her pain medication, encouraged her to walk short distances, checked her healing wounds with satisfied nods. Maya never strayed far from her mother’s side. She would wake from nightmares, gasping, reaching out in the dark until her fingers found Ellen’s hand.
Then she would breathe again, remember she was safe, and curl back into sleep. Roman visited twice a day, morning and evening—brief check-ins that lasted no more than five minutes. He would ask about Ellen’s recovery, ensure Maya had everything she needed, then vanish back into whatever business consumed his days. He never stayed long enough for comfort to develop, never let proximity soften the necessary distance between savior and saved.
On the third evening, Ellen asked to speak with him alone. Victor took Maya to the kitchen for dinner, leaving the mother and her benefactor alone in the medical suite that had become Ellen’s temporary world. She was sitting up now without help, her bandaged wrists resting on her lap like white flags of surrender to circumstances beyond her control. “I told Victor everything I know about Kostas,” Ellen said without preamble.
“His schedule, his contacts, the people he pays off, the places he feels safest. Everything.” Roman nodded. “I know. Victor briefed me.” — “Then you have what you need. You don’t need us anymore.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact. A woman who had learned that utility often determined value. “You aren’t here because you’re useful,” Roman replied quietly. “You’re here because you’re healing.” — “We can’t stay forever. This isn’t our world. We don’t belong in places with marble floors and armed guards.”
“Where do you belong?” The question seemed to catch her off guard. “I don’t know anymore. Not my old apartment. Kostas knows where that is. Not the diner. Same problem. Nowhere feels safe now.” — “That’s why you’re going somewhere new. Somewhere Kostas’s influence doesn’t reach.” — “And live how? I’m a waitress with a high school education and a daughter to feed. A fresh start takes money I don’t have.” Roman had anticipated this. “Victor has arranged a job for you.
A manager position at a restaurant. Good salary. Benefits. It’s three hours north, in a quiet town. Maya’s enrollment in school is handled. First and last month’s rent on an apartment is paid.” Ellen stared at him. “Why are you doing this?” — “Because letting you survive only to struggle isn’t really a rescue. But we’re strangers. You don’t owe us anything.” — “I don’t think in terms of ‘owing,'” Roman interrupted. “I think in terms of ‘completion.’ I started something when I took you out of that tree.
This is how it ends.” Ellen’s eyes shimmered, but the tears didn’t fall. She had cried enough for a lifetime in the last few days. “What about Kostas? If he finds out we’re alive? If he discovers you were involved?” — “He won’t discover anything.” The certainty in Roman’s voice silenced her. “Are you really going to…” — “I’m going to have a talk with him about his priorities. What happens after that talk depends entirely on how well he listens.”
